


Radiant and Brimming

by skelli



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Penetration, Sexual Content, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5074516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skelli/pseuds/skelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshots of Chrom and Robin. They will vary in content but will all revolve around Chrom/Robin's relationship. First oneshot deals with Robin's feelings about Chrom and overall their romance and is set towards the beginning of the game. Rated M for sexual content in oneshots, which will vary but will always be included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I used Robin's set name because everyone knows Robin as Robin but I tried to keep the description of the male avatar unit to a minimum so you can imagine your own unit too if you want to. The first oneshot is really just self-indulgent- I wanted to write Chrom and Robin being romantic, and in love and Chrom being charming. Anyways if you enjoy it even a little, I would be happy.

There was nothing less than devotion and deep admiration which painted Robin’s feelings for Chrom. Even to his utmost romantic attractions, did Robin find himself longing to be useful, to earn trust from his partner. The companionship he found himself devoted to was unlike any relationship he could have, at least he believed that to be with how full his heart felt with his emotions for Chrom. Having been brought into an empty identity with nothing more than a name, Chrom’s boundless kindness might as well have been the birth of Robin himself. But he didn’t think anything of how it shaped him as a person, rather he only felt endless gratitude, his identity shaping subconsciously with blossoming concern and patience. 

His natural talent in strategy only strengthened his resolve to become someone who could stand by Chrom equally, although in the latter’s eyes they were already equals. Still yet, Robin would push himself to his limits if it meant he could assist his team members. He would give himself to Chrom’s cause, and under Chrom’s care he felt meaningful. 

His aching to become a worthy right hand man caused him great distress at the nightmares and dizzy spells. Through his attachment to Chrom and the echoing guilt and devastation that resounded in his mind and body after the nightmares of killing his partner, he could barely breath let alone bring himself to explain such terrible visions. Instead he pushed himself to work harder, to stay truer to his feelings. 

How could he confirm Frederick’s initial suspicions when Chrom had so kindly defended him by allowing such disturbing images come to the discussion? That person in his mind wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him and he wouldn’t allow that stranger to flood the life he built with ugly betrayal and darkness.

Robin was straightforward in all means except for burdening his party, especially Chrom. He discussed his ideas without problem and strategized with everyone present, including his own weaknesses into the equation without falter. Yet he still could not bear to tell Chrom of his shaky mind. It hurt him to think he could lose the trust of someone so close to him. Several times already though, he had had fainting spells. Reoccurring voices taunted him from far away, playing with his magic and whispering to him of things he didn’t know. Himself. But more precisely, a past self so far away and unreal Robin would have rather just ignored it all entirely. 

Which he did as much as he could. The guilt of turning his gaze away in order to lie to Chrom’s worried expression hurt him but insisting it was merely exhaustion left the bitter pain short lived and bearable. 

It had been five days since his last nightmare and Robin stood thoughtfully, mostly well-rested, with the group, listening to their opinions on their next track. Nearby, Chrom stood, proud and solid and glistening with natural optimism. It warmed Robin’s heart and he listened thoroughly for the sake of everyone involved. It would be what Chrom would want- for everyone’s voice to be heard. 

Robin’s mind wavered, his eyes faltering briefly and rippling his present image of Chrom and those standing around him. With the sudden rush of anxiety from deep within, he forced a smile and tried to blink away the dizzy spell without bringing too much attention to himself. His heart rate picked up, pressing nervously against his ribs but he kept quiet. Even with the force of dread that settled itself like a rock into his gut, did he fear more telling his companions that something was wrong than passing out. 

A strong urge to sit down followed a heavy wave of vertigo and instinctively Robin brought a hand up to his head. There was an eerie tingling that ran from his core down to the tips of his fingers and lingered. The voices he had once been listening to were muffled, distant and far now from Robin’s focus. A buzzing that started faint replaced the sounds of his party’s conversation in a dead but steady crawl that pulled the corners of Robin’s smile into a frown. He knew this sensation and terror filled his stomach like a bucket of cold water- sudden and rough, splashing up his stomach and into his throat. 

A hand startled him from the sinking darkness around his vision, warm and strong. The weight it relieved him from made his knees buckle underneath him. His stomach clenched tightly at the toppling sensation that followed right after, his body jerking with the tight hold on his upper arm. Far away, his name echoed but his eyes were rolling back into the black confinement of his mind and he had no control to answer. 

As he crumpled under the pressure against the inside of his head, an arm wrapped itself securely around his body with a final call, “Robin?!”  


It all went black. 

Xxx

 

Before his mind could register all the sensations of his body, Robin felt a layered warmth settled on his body. It was as if with the previous blackout, he had become cut off from all physical pieces of himself-his fingers, his toes, his limbs- and now he was trying to pull himself back together. When he could finally register the heat of his fingers, he distinctly felt the presence of another’s holding his hand gently. It took all his strength to open his eyes.

Vision still blurred with the toll of losing consciousness, Robin had to blink away the fuzzy outline of the person sitting by his side. Exhausted, he felt a cold calmness making his limbs heavy but he could finally call them his own again and that was enough. Chrom’s face came into view and his heart became heavy. He had burdened his savior, his lover again. 

Chrom recognized Robin’s awakening and looked down at him. In the light of the lamp’s fire, Chrom’s strong jaw took a handsome edge and he smiled, brow creased. His free hand came up and petted through Robin’s hair with unbearable gentle strength. It felt almost too intimate for Robin to handle. 

“Now why do you make such a face when looking upon me?” He playfully spoke, hand still nestled sweetly in Robin’s locks. His ever light hearted attitude made Robin’s stomach flip with great affection and guilt simultaneously. “Unhappy it was not instead Lissa attending your bedside?” 

Closing his eyes for a brief moment of rest, Robin answered, “I seem to have troubled you again, Chrom..” He could not bring himself to joke about such things himself. The hand in his hair was warm like the blanket he lay under in Chrom’s tent and he felt himself relaxing despite his heavy heart. For some reason after his blackouts, he always felt terribly cold, like his soul was being separated from his physical body. Chrom’s room in contrast was warm, comforting, familiar. 

Chrom stood fluidly from the chair, both hands sliding from their contact with Robin, “Please Robin, do not worry yourself sick over such trivial matters. What we should work towards is making sure you are well rested between battles. You were exhausted, weren’t you?” 

Robin watched quietly from the bed as Chrom prepared a hot cup of tea. His heart swelled with the thoughtfulness of his lover. He thought maybe his heart might burst. 

“No one will think ill of our tactician taking a rest so please do not push yourself. We are making great time, so there’s no reason to force your body.” Chrom came back to sit at the chair with the hot tea, making sure as Robin sat up he would be fine on his own. He handed the tea over to Robin’s open hands, and gave him a unwavering stare, “Which I know you tend to do.” There was a slight scolding tone to his words, but all in good faith and Robin bashfully looked into the steaming cup.

He brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip. It warmed him the whole way down to his stomach, settling inside him nicely. He hadn’t actually been tired at the meeting, having slept peacefully in the secrecy of Chrom’s tent the night before but now he was thoroughly spent and could not bring himself to explain anything. He drank the tea in a dazed silence, touched by Chrom’s kindness. They sat in silence for a long moment, and Robin relished the peace. 

Pushing Robin’s bangs away, Chrom leaned in from his place in the chair and touched their foreheads together. “How do you feel?” His eyes closed a moment in concentration, “You do not seem to have a fever.” He ran his head to the back of Robin’s head and lingered in their touch instead of pulling away which gave Robin a moment to examine the beauty of the prince before him. He lowered the tea to his lap, hands warmed by the cup’s exterior. With Chrom’s eyes closed, Robin could see his dark, long eyelashes. He almost wanted to call to him..

“I was worried for you.” Chrom suddenly spoke again, eyes opening.

Robin searched Chrom’s expression, deeply moved by the handsome features that were outlined so perfectly by the lamp. The straight line of Chrom’s nose, the arch of his eyebrow, the serious stare that was directed at him. He felt Chrom’s fingers at the base of his neck, hot and strong.

“You were so cold as I carried you here.” Chrom brought his hand around to Robin’s cheek and caressed the skin with his thumb, “But knowing you were merely tired.. I feel great relief.” 

“I’m sorry..” Robin spoke softly between them, his words barely over a whisper. Chrom’s smile flooded Robin’s heart and if he couldn’t decipher whether he felt more blessed or more ashamed for making his lover worry. Chrom brought their lips softly together in a gentle kiss and murmured, “Please no more apologies.”

Robin could only wordlessly accept such a request as well as another soft kiss, his eyes drifting closed. If Chrom asked anything of him, he would do it. The soft kisses multiplied in number, taking Robin’s lips countless times, even as Chrom removed the half full cup of warm tea and set it onto the table. With the cup out of the way, he slowly kissed Robin down into the pillows of the bed, lingering over top him with their fingers intertwined with one set of hands. He pulled back, looking down at Robin’s laying form, eyes full and dark in the angle of the light. 

“Are you too tired tonight?” He murmured, cupping Robin’s warmed face with his free hand. Robin nuzzled his face into Chrom’s palm, pressing it closer to his cheek with his own free hand, “No.”

“I don’t want to you to push-“

Robin turned the hand towards his mouth and kissed the warm skin of Chrom’s palm, “I want to.” 

Under his breath, Robin heard Chrom whisper, “Gods…” As he rose to remove his armor. Robin watched Chrom dismantle his armor for his shoulder, removing it in one swoop and settling it elegantly on the chair by the desk before he began to undo the straps that held his outfit together. Robin felt too flushed and giddy to move and so he merely watched with a loving, lingering gaze as Chrom’s sculpted body revealed itself piece by piece. 

Sinking a hand into the crafted mattress, Chrom returned, smiling and unashamed in his brilliant naked glory. “Am I to be privileged with the task of undressing you?” He murmured, pulling the blanket back from Robin’s body. 

“If it pleases you..” Robin offered, head still a bit swimmy from earlier as he lifted himself up onto his elbows. To show his gratitude and affection to Chrom, he was willing to make love in whatever fashion the prince so wished. Knowing of Chrom’s naked form resting mere inches from himself, his eyes danced down the fine muscles of Chrom’s chest, sliding down his abs and suddenly his attention was directed upward by a tilt of his chin, Chrom’s hand moving it so Robin looked back into his face, “Soon enough.” He murmured teasingly, kissing Robin who blushed fiercely at his own impatience. 

Chrom’s kisses became more intimate, both his hands cupping Robin’s face as he came to straddle the space above his lover’s body. Their mouths opened, working with one another as Chrom’s tongue slid past soft lips again and again. The heat of Chrom’s kisses flushed Robin from his head to his toes, settling a wonderful lust in his stomach. 

When Chrom pulled back, he could only smile warmly at the longing gaze that followed his mouth and in a moment of pure confidence and reckless desire, Robin shifted up, hand resting on Chrom’s arm and he placed feathery but insisting kisses up along Chrom’s jaw as if to say ‘I’ve not had nearly enough.’ 

In his surprise, Chrom’s loins jumped in excitement and he let out a hot breath, “By Gods Robin..!” The sensation of the smaller man’s mouth against his throat sent liquid heat down his spine and straight to his groin so nicely he couldn’t help himself but tightly embrace Robin’s sitting form. “By the Gods Robin, let me make love to you!” 

Robin’s arms slid up the firm, toned back of his lover, face pressed sweetly to his warm chest and he responded, almost laughing, “Weren’t we already going to make love, Chrom?” His heart could barely contain such happiness in contrast to the dread he had felt earlier. 

“I can hardly contain myself,” Chrom confessed, also smiling in his own laughter. He pulled back and lifted Robin’s shirt over his head to toss it to the side. As he revealed skin, he showered it in kisses, even taking one of Robin’s bare arms and kissing up to from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. Robin swallowed at his racing heart, eyes unable to move away from the deeply arousing image of Chrom kissing at his fingers while staring down at him. 

He moved between Robin’s legs, pulling the pants he was wearing down off his body and from his legs and letting them slide to the floor as he leaned in for another kiss. The naked touch of flesh on flesh only stirred Robin’s arousal on further and when their lips touched, he couldn’t suppress a gasp from escaping. Chrom’s hands led Robin’s arms up to wrap around his neck as they mingled in warm, healing kisses. 

Chrom leaned back briefly and reached beneath his bed, grabbing an ointment bottle. He smiled to his flushed lover, tipping the bottle at him in a knowing fashion for both of them as he admired the rosy color that Robin’s lips had taken from their kissing. 

“Allow me the pleasure to prepare you, Robin.” He murmured, settling Robin’s hips into his arms and resting his calves on his broad shoulders. Robin flushed across his entire body, in anticipation and in embarrassment, his cheeks reddening. Laying on his shoulders, Robin had a fantastic view of his own erection and Chrom between his legs, which was positively obscene. He almost wanted to cover his eyes but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so, mesmerized by Chrom’s presence. 

Chrom’s smile slipped into a serious expression as he poured the cool gel onto his fingers, warming it with his own skin before delicately touching Robin’s skin behind his erection. His other hand ran up one of Robin’s thighs, caressing the smooth skin as he placed a tender kiss to the inner thigh. He began to kiss with more force, giving way to his desire to place his lingering physical affections on his lover’s body as his finger penetrated gently. The preparations were slow moving but sensual and left Robin breathless. He could feel the shape of Chrom’s fingers inside him and he relished the special care that Chrom tended to him, kissing his body and caressing him. 

“Forgive me, Robin.. I have grown impatient.”

Chrom lowered Robin’s hips, resting him back to the pillows and leveling his erection with Robin’s entrance. Both had grown warm under each other’s attention and a line of sweat ran smoothly down Chrom’s chest as he pressed himself into his lover’s body. Robin’s hand jumped out and immediately Chrom intertwined their fingers, reading his cue. Pinning it to the bed, Chrom rocked himself slowly further and further into Robin’s body, taking his time and staring deep into Robin’s expression in case of pain or discomfort. 

When he bottomed out, his pelvis pressed firmly against Robin’s body, he smiled warmly, kissing Robin’s brow and petting his hair back. “I am so lucky to have you.” He whispered, mouth moving down to Robin’s throat to kiss up along the pulsing heartbeat beneath the skin. 

If he were not so breathless, body filled with Chrom in many ways, he would have refuted such a statement with Robin being the truly lucky one. But instead, he squeezed Chrom’s hand and threw his head back as he felt the electric shock of pleasure spark up his spine at Chrom’s fluid movements. Chrom was well-endowed and Robin was panting by the time Chrom had taken a normal pace, his cheeks hot and his body tingling all over and filled with Chrom. 

Chrom made love to him several times over, unable to truly extinguish his lust in merely one round. Every time he came to finishing, he found himself becoming overwhelmingly aroused at the climax of his lover and would request imploringly another session. Robin could hardly tell Chrom no and found himself clinging to Chrom sweetly by the end of the night and both were tangled in the sheets and each other in their exhaustion by morning. 

The nightmares forgotten and the dizzy pains of yesterday pushed aside, both men woke in a fumble at the sound of Frederick’s callings for Chrom, trying to pull on pants and laughing softly under their breath as they hurriedly got dressed for another day. Robin’s affection from yesterday being the only thing having been accounted for and growing exponentially, they moved faced the days in the only way they could- forward.


	2. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle takes a turn for the worse under Robin's tactical supervision and Chrom ends up injured. Robin feels guilt and longs to apologize to his lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! This contains oral sex and handsome Chrom ;0

“Now Robin, don’t grieve as if I’m not still with you.” Chrom gently chastised his sullen faced lover sitting quietly by his bedside. He reached a hand out, the bandages covering his palm reminding Robin painfully of earlier that week. It hurt him to be touched with such careful, sympathetic fingers, the caress of Chrom’s thumb sweeping across his cheek hot. He could not move his eyes away from the place where the bandages peeked out from beneath the blankets of Chrom’s bed and so his eyes lingered just down from Chrom’s face. 

“Robin.” Chrom spoke again and pinched his lover’s cheek with restraint.

Robin’s skin flushed pink under Chrom’s fingers but his attention was trapped in his own mind. He could still see the spray of blood, watching in horror the split moment before it splattered across his face and into his eyes, the warmth stinging him and causing him to cry out and duck his head. His hands shook as he tried to put himself back together, mind racing and with the realization that this was Chrom’s blood dripping from his chin. He couldn’t wipe his eyes enough to open them, his hands fumbling and smearing red across his skin and in the distance, as if far, far away, he could hear his teammates calling out to them. 

There was red clouding his vision, blurring the grass underfoot as he struggled to gain his footing. The clashing noises of swords against swords echoed closer and closer but despite the danger, all Robin could think about was whether the warm blood on his face would be the last time he would be feeling Chrom’s heat. His knees buckled under him as he stumbled forward- 

A sharp tug on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts and suddenly he was looking into Chrom’s searching expression. He blinked through the regurgitated fear of his memories, and then as the pain swept across his face, he mumbled, “Ow…” 

“It’s the second time I’ve tried to remove you from your thoughts.” Chrom spoke, resting back down onto his elbow. “Does that battle really bother you so much, Robin?” He took his lover’s resting hand in his own and caressed the skin. Concern was evident on his expression, creasing his brow handsomely. 

Robin felt queasy allowing himself the privilege to crease Chrom’s brow like that and so he turned his eyes away, face tight in a grimace. “I’ve failed our team, myself.. I’ve failed you. My approach could have had you..” The words gripped his throat, as if he wanted to refuse the jarring possibility that had harshly slapped him. All the victories of their past together felt hollow with his heart plagued with the reality of the battlefield. Chrom could have..

“Robin.” 

The tactician’s eyes were screwed closed, his hand tightening its grip on Chrom’s fingers. “You could have died, Chrom.” The words rushed out of him with a breath, as if spoken like a curse. He felt like the air had been knocked out of his chest, leaving him weak and empty. He had been so stupid as to position Chrom on the ground with no close back up beside himself. The weight of their team’s dependency was heavy on his shoulders, bearing down even on his physical form. Had he made even one more fraction of a mistake, their leader, their shining hope would have been lost to that miniscule battle out there in the fields. Lost to his own hands. The beautiful smile of his lover would have been broken there in that unknown place, with no glory to his people, with no justice. He had taken a full day of practiced healing just to awake. Robin suddenly pulled his hand free of Chrom’s, feeling the sticky phantom blood of his lover coating his palms. “I could have killed you with my mistake..” 

“ _Robin!_ ” Chrom’s scolding tone took on a serious edge and snapped the other’s attention up immediately. Chrom’s expression softened as he settled into a sitting position in the bed with effort. “Do you think I believe this injury..” His hand pushed the blankets away to reveal the bandage around his middle tinted with blood, “Look at me, Robin.” Chrom settled his feet properly on the floor, legs on either side of Robin’s thighs as he drew the other’s face back towards him with a delicate touch to his cheek. “I want you to face this.” He murmured sweetly, lovingly, with all the good intention the prince could have. The fear in Robin’s eyes flicked between the injury against Chrom’s ribs to Chrom’s face in anguish, unable to turn away from a request but pained to have to do such a thing. 

Chrom continued, pulling forward Robin’s trembling fingers, “Do you believe I think this injury is by your miscalculation?” He gently led Robin’s fingers along the bandage where the gash lay despite the other’s soft protests, intimately allowing Robin’s fingers to sting him as he forced Robin to face his own grief. “The battlefield shifting right before your eyes is not your fault, Robin.” He pressed Robin’s hand fully to the injury, palm against his flesh and stared deep into the fear of Robin’s gaping face, his own resolve showing through the pain he felt. “I am here. I am here because you have led the team forward in a way where we can be _called_ a team. You cannot shoulder blame all by yourself. We are a unit.” 

Robin’s eyes blurred with tears, his entire arm shaking, especially the hand pinned to Chrom’s body. “Chrom.. how can you keep such confidence in me? I failed you. I put you in grave danger..” 

“I do not pin you down with needing to know the future.” Chrom murmured, taking Robin’s face into his hands, feeling against his thumbs the first of many hot tears. 

Robin pulled in a shaky breath, unable to lift his head at first even with Chrom’s warm palms holding his cheeks. He felt unworthy of sitting beside Chrom as an equal. Who was he thinking so brazenly that he could stand by the prince as his equivalent? Shameless fool. He sank down from the chair, scooting back the wooden seat as he knelt between Chrom’s open legs. His hands, cold with his dread, held tight to Chrom’s hands, pushing their warmth against his face. How he was thankful to still be able to touch these hands. To feel their life, to hear Chrom speak to him. His heart was a rock of despair, weighing him down to the ground. 

“I’m .. undeserving. You say these things.. You are so reassuring of me. But what have I done to deserve this?” Robin spoke between breaths, tears still running freely. It felt better to kneel before Chrom and he calmed as he settled down between his prince’s legs. It felt like his entirety was giving an apology, asking for forgiveness. “I feel I can’t apologize sincerely enough..” 

“I am not asking you for an apology.” Chrom’s hands tilted Robin’s head back, so they could look into each other’s eyes. “But if you feel you must apologize no matter what…” He continuously captured the falling tears of his lover with patience, wiping away each one that fell down Robin’s rosy cheeks. 

Robin nodded softly. 

“If you must apologize,” Chrom whispered, “then you must also forgive.” At Robin’s questioning stare, Chrom continued, “You must forgive yourself. For putting yourself through so much grief. You must forgive and remember how you hold my fullest trust.” He leaned down and gave a gentle kiss to Robin’s forehead. “And move forward. Alright?” 

Robin’s heart swelled in his chest and he nodded again, collecting himself. The pressure of his love and guilt pushed against his heart and flooded him with mixed feelings. He breathed a moment, thankful for the silence and the prince’s presence all around him. Over and over he felt himself being moved by the prince’s concern for him. “Allow me to service you, Chrom.” He finally spoke, voice firm for the first time since they had left for battle that week. 

Chrom smiled, bemused, and arched one fine eyebrow at Robin’s words. Robin’s eyelashes were still wet with his tears as he finally looked up at Chrom properly. “Please let me be of use to you in just the most carnal of fashions… something only I can do for you. Something only _I_ am allowed to do for you.” The sincerity was evident in Robin’s stare and despite the lingering frailty to his set lips, Chrom knew his lover well and was serious. He was even moved. 

His smile widened and he leaned down to place a feathery kiss to Robin’s lips, “There’s my witty tactician; I could never say no to such finely crafted words.” Chrom released Robin’s face, bringing his hands up to open his pants. He pulled himself free of his undergarments, holding his sturdy girth in a hand with a natural modesty that stirred Robin’s loins. He shifted up properly onto his knees, feeling the unyielding pressure of the ground against his skin. He wanted bruises to remind himself. The weight of himself and the weight of Chrom’s pleasure- he wanted proof for tomorrow.

Upon taking Chrom’s cock in his hand, he felt tremendous gratitude that he was still able to take a position as someone who could pleasure his lover. Chrom was alive and he was thankful, unbearably so. Chrom’s words rang in his head. Apologize and forgive. He gave a sweet, chaste kiss to the head, eyes fluttering closed in the intimacy. If he listened closely, which he was, he would soon hear the deepening of Chrom’s breath. His tongue trailed along the side of Chrom’s stirring penis and then up the back side where he opened his mouth to take the weight into his hot mouth. 

Chrom’s thumb lovingly trailed along his jaw, and as Robin opened his eyes to look up at him he was faced with the deep, imploring look of Chrom’s admiration. With his mouth full of cock, he could only stare back into the indisputable intensity of Chrom’s love for him and flinch under the great jolt of arousal it sent through him. He slid his fingers around the base of Chrom’s growing erection and with a flutter of his eyelashes began to move. Forgiving himself found itself to be easier under the affectionate gaze of his lover and the gentle hand that threaded through his hair as he moved up and down. His tongue pressed against the heat of the underside of Chrom’s cock, coaxing it and giving it leeway to the back of his throat.

He wanted to open himself to Chrom, give him the most untouched places across his body and have him mark them. Chrom’s fingers raked tighter through his hair as he sped up, a groan falling past his lips in a sweet voice that made Robin’s heart melt. He pressed the hot head of the cock against his cheek, the smooth surface rubbing nicely against the sensitive skin. The inside of his head had become a fog, collecting all his thoughts and merely swirling them tightly around Chrom. He felt he belonged between the firm, solid weight of each of Chrom’s thighs and gratefully bowed his head, taking in the full length.

The unbecoming, suggestive position he had taken only became the fuel to his determination. It flushed his cheeks and then his entirety, making his cloak a confinement of passion and temperature. Robin turned his head for a better angle, a sweet sound coming from his throat as he tasted the first beginnings of Chrom’s pleasure. Kind fingers pushed his bangs from his forehead, and he heard whispered faintly his name. 

Robin placed a hand on the inside of Chrom’s thigh, steadying himself as he concentrated on keeping a steady pace. Each time he met with the almost unbearable weight against the back of his throat, he apologized. In the future, he wanted to do countless indecent things with his lover- he wanted to make love thousands of times and so he relished the bittersweet taste of Chrom on his tongue. A hand, a large palm petted his hair and his grip on Chrom’s thigh strengthened. His pants had become devilishly tight and yet Robin refused to allow himself such selfishness. 

“Robin..!” His name in the throes of pleasure was the greatest sound of all. A hot stickiness coated the inside of Robin’s mouth, cleansing him of his guilt in an ironic matter of carnal climax. He was happy, and slowly he released Chrom’s softening cock, body trembling as he lowered his warm face to merely bask in his recovering emotional high. 

Chrom’s hand slid underneath his jaw and he lifted Robin’s face back up. Robin could barely stand to look into Chrom’s post orgasm expression; he was stunning and splendidly real. The color splashed across the prince’s high cheeks and the line of sweat against one temple that shined in such a way made Robin’s arousal all the more thick in his stomach. Chrom had a questionable serious expression on and he placed another hand just under Robin’s wet lips.

“Spit it out.” He said firmly, eyes unyielding and still dark.

Robin hesitated a moment, mulling over the bitter taste in his mouth before he slowly released his prize in the most sinful of manners into that open palm. Chrom leaned across his lover and used a hand towel sitting on the table to wipe his hands. As Robin collected his hazy thoughts, still warm all the way to his toes, Chrom corrected himself. When he was proper again, he touched Robin’s cheek, looking into the dazed expression of his lover, examining in fondness the heat in the other’s eyes. 

“How do you feel?” 

“At ease.” Robin spoke slowly, his mind nicely floating as if following waves along the oceans. His guilt was far away, unlike the taste of Chrom on his lips and the touch lingering by his cheek. 

“May I return the favor?” 

Robin’s eyes shot open and a sudden, rather out of place embarrassment overtook him. “I could never.. ! Your injuries-“ He pulled at his robes in a weak attempt to gather himself, babbling, but Chrom placed a hand on his shoulder stilling him as he leaned down to his ear, “Allow me such pleasures as well.” The dark gleam of Chrom’s gaze in the light accented by the slightest of smirks kept the arousal burning in Robin’s gut and cut his protests short.

He let out a choked laugh, almost euphoric in his fondness for the prince. His throat was pleasantly raw, his knees aching. “I could never say no to such finely crafted words.” He said through a weak smile, on the verge of tears once more. Warm hands led him up off his knees and out of his apology in a silent act of affection and forgiveness- one which continued into the night until Robin had no more apologies left to give and he had tired his guilt out completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will contain bondage, ha ha. Thanks for reading.


	3. Rope Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Chrom dip a delicate toe into the perverse world of rope when a sudden, unexpected surge of Grima's magic threatens Robin's control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming and reading this chapter. If you are a returning reader, thank you for coming back even with my inconsistent updates. If you are a new reader, thank you for clicking on my work. I hope you can enjoy my (self-indulgent) work!

The tingling buzz in his arm rushed down to his fingertips, making them feel numb as a strange heat prickled at the back of his neck. An irritation ran through his blood, like small violent spider legs scratching under his flesh to get out. He watched Chrom’s mouth moving with a sensation he had never felt before, eyes following the flesh of his lover’s lips through a shadow bleeding into the edges of his vision. Before Robin knew it, his hand was in the air, muscles clenching along his jaw and in his arm.

The impact of Chrom’s palm against his hand when the prince caught the slap barely stung. Robin stared blankly at the grip of fingers that held his hand, mind a blur of white noise, drowning out all of his possible reactions. He slowly cocked his head, eerie distance coming between his thoughts and his actions, his body shifting in and out of his control. First he could feel his hand, then he couldn’t.

“Robin,” Chrom started, voice tight with concern and mild confusion. The gaze that stared up at him seemed oddly unfamiliar, dark and unblinking despite being his lover’s eyes. A strange tightness pressed between Robin’s lips, like he was holding back anger. Sharply, without warning, he tried to pull his hand free of Chrom’s grasp, giving no obvious signs of pain or discomfort when Chrom simply held tighter, faster on reflex.

“Robin,” Chrom said more seriously, pulling forward on the arm he held so that Robin’s struggling would have less impact. It started with simply him using his free hand in order to try to pry Chrom’s fingers off and then that same hand was raised into a fist, preparing to strike. The mage didn’t make any noise at first, silently breathing and working against Chrom’s hold on now both his arms but after coming to the cruel realization that his physical strength was no match for the prince’s, a frustrated wail burst forth from his lips, terrible and agonizing to Chrom’s ears.

Quickly he whirled Robin around, pressing his chest to the mage’s back and wrapped his arms securely around his frame, holding him tightly. The hug brought them hunched over, Robin’s knees immediately going weak. His chest was heaving with breath, blood roaring in his ears and tormenting his mind, leaving him with little concentration to even think. For a second time, against his own will, he let out a weakening cry, before collapsing fully to his knees, Chrom right behind him. He could feel the burning of his cheeks now, sharp and painful, and he slowly lowered his head, trying to stop the swimming sensation behind his eyes.

The longer Robin’s body was constricted in Chrom’s patient arms, the more he calmed, relaxing into the strength he knew so well and had forgotten so swiftly. A line of sweat followed down his temple and dripped from his chin as he found peace in no longer having boundless freedom. The restriction of his body, fueled by the heavy presence of his lover’s body behind him reminded Robin where he was. It brought him up out of the muddled darkness he had been lingering in, unsure and unaware, and finally he could properly breath without the crushing weight of unfamiliarity overwhelming his senses and pushing him away.

“Chrom…” His voice was weak, small and very different to the wails from earlier.

“I am here, Robin.” Chrom’s voice was close, pressed against him, “You are safe.”

Robin’s head was heavy and light, heavy with fatigue and light with a dizziness akin to how he felt when he had lost a little too much blood out on the battlefield. He slumped down a little further, not quite lost in the swirling heady darkness behind his eyes but overwhelmed by the way it made his body feel. “I can’t…” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he didn’t have the strength to stop them, even with his anxiety of telling Chrom his dark secret, “Control it..”

Chrom slowly lowered them both by his strength to sit fully on the ground, gazing at his lover’s lowered profile in concern. There was a frailty lining his expression of tight pain, one that told Chrom this was a secret that had been guarded with the utmost attention and security. “What can you not control?” He murmured back, gentle.

Robin felt on the verge of tears. A stinging in the back of his throat made his words strained. “My body.” He confessed finally, shoulders tensing with his shameful admission.

Chrom silently stared at Robin, watching the contortion of pain and suffering twist his lover’s expression and he knew there was no assurance that would come from mere words. Through the mage’s coat there passed no heat despite Chrom’s presence. Even yet, there was almost a coldness rising up from Robin’s collar, caressing Chrom’s face with its slender fingers. Gently he loosened his hold momentarily, to give Robin a chance to turn towards him.

“Chrom, don’t-!” Robin cried out but his body was already twisting around with one hand outstretched. His fingers grazed the prince’s collar, tugging on the fabric before it was pinned to the earth. The breath was almost knocked out of him as Chrom pinned Robin to the ground fully, shadowing him from above. Robin’s fingers were still twitching, curling in promises of violence and with wide, horrified eyes, Robin avoided Chrom’s gaze, looking anywhere but his face. Anywhere but the truth of what Chrom thought of him now. Heart racing, smashing against his chest, breath coming out in heaves, Robin didn’t dare face his prince.

“Robin…” Chrom murmured. There were words he would have liked to say. Have you been fighting this alone all this time? Do you feel all will be lost if you do not overcome this by yourself? “Can you not rely on those around you?” He asked, the wind coming over them and fluttering the hair out of his face, rustling his cape and bringing Robin’s attention up.

Robin’s crushed expression brought a pang of guilt and sympathy to Chrom’s chest.

“Shall I call over Libra, or Frederick-“

Robin jerked in Chrom’s grip involuntarily, even physically trying to reject the suggestion, “No!” In the spur of his anxiety, he had shouted but upon glancing at Chrom’s surprised face, he quickly tried to explain himself, “No, anything but that… not… now, not with everything-“ His voice cracked, and he cursed how weak he became under his personal pressure, eyes squeezing closed as if to block the tears from escaping.

If Frederick found out now, after everything, the truth of the situation, Robin’s place of belonging would vanish in a rush of terror and rage, burning with it all the bridges he had been given. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the eyes that had looked at him with fondness and friendship go cold in his betrayal. It made his stomach squeeze with fear, hardening it enough to hurt.

“Alright,” Chrom conceded, “Let us at least move to my tent. We can figure out a solution together there.” Despite it all, Chrom leaned down and gave Robin a soft caress, catching a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen, “Can you stand?”

Feeling strangely warm in the face for his outburst and enthralled by Chrom’s action, Robin answered honestly, “I don’t know.” He could barely feel his legs, but they did sit unmoving beneath the prince’s body. He could barely process anything and Chrom’s ease to which he responded to Robin with acceptance in the face of his violence only confused Robin more. He tried to pull up his legs, which were heavy as if they had been filled with stones. As Chrom rose, Robin’s hands clung to his arms and he looked up to the prince, seeing him outlined with the setting sun in a brilliance of orange and red. It shined off his armor, giving him a glowing shape, sparkling in his dark hair.

“I can’t..” He whispered, voice hushed with his attention focused on everything that was Chrom. The tender expression shimmering through the sun’s falling rays, the gentle hand that led Robin’s to his own and the bottomless well of trust Chrom offered him. He was undeserving but how he longed. Maybe the exhaustion and the dizzying swiftness of the exposure of his secret after everything was making him vulnerable. He wavered but Chrom’s hand held strong. For this brief moment, Robin was simply numb, heavy but faintly, he could feel the heat between their palms.

“I’ll help you, okay?” Chrom smiled to him, pulling Robin up by both his hands where he let him lean against his chest. A flush touched at Robin’s cheekbones but Chrom laughed in his good nature and patted Robin’s lower back, “There we go.” He wrapped an arm around Robin’s waist, pulling one arm around his shoulders to help him walk. For a moment they shuffled in silence, Robin too raw, too exposed to do anything other than focus on not collapsing before the tent.

But softly, Chrom turned to him, expression suddenly serious and unreadable. Robin stared, dumbstruck, eyes flicking back and forth across the set of Chrom’s lips and the pinch between his brows. “Robin.” He said, voice firm which made Robin’s heart skip a beat. Was he actually angry this entire time? “Don’t ever keep something like this from me. I know you. You are honest and straightforward. You are my tactician.” Chrom paused and took a deep breath in, “You are my lover. I have believed in you since the beginning because I know you hold a good will. Now believe in me too.”

Robin opened his mouth, desperate to protest but Chrom only looked at him with a knowing smile and continued, “I cannot speak for the other Shepherds and whether you’ll open your heart to them but do not cast me out, Robin. Let us fight this together.”

Robin lowered his head, the pinching sensation of tears burning his eyes. He clenched Chrom’s shoulder and gave a weak nod, so choked up he couldn’t make even one word come out. If there was ever a luckier man, Robin would not be able to imagine him.

They entered the tent, Chrom pushing open the flap to allow them both to step inside. He lowered Robin’s body to sit on the makeshift bed across the room and went to light the lamps in the fading light of the sun. Robin sat quietly, wishing to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but unable with the numbness in his arms. Instead they fell freely down to his lap, each drop making his robe slightly darker.

Chrom returned a moment later to Robin’s side, sitting beside him on the bed. He, in Robin’s stead, wiped away the tears staining his cheeks and asked, “How are you feeling?”

A coldness was swelling up underneath his chest which felt uncomfortable with the tingling, burning sensation prickling his hands and feet. Robin wanted to say, but he realized with a dawning horror, his lips would not move. He tried to move any of his fingers, but they sat unmoving on the bed. His heart startled as for a brief moment, everything went black. A powerful rushing mirroring the wind blew across him, a sensation eerily like he was being pushed from his own body and even though he knew his eyes had been open, he could see nothing. If Chrom was speaking to him, he couldn’t hear it. For a long, gut wrenching moment, there was nothing but darkness and an echoing of.. maybe a voice. Robin couldn’t tell. Someone whispering.

His eyes flew open. He watched now in shock as his hand rose experimentally from the bed, making a fist, clenching it tightly and one by one, stretching the fingers back out. There was still the lingering watery film of his tears blurring his sight.

Was this real? Had he lowered his guard in his affection and longing for Chrom’s comfort? He could feel the weight of a hand on his shoulder, but anything he could sense now with his body was muffled, not all his own senses. Robin wanted to scream but instead his head turned slowly to face Chrom’s concern. What expression was he himself making?

Despite all the heavy numbness he had been feeling, Robin’s body moved fast. Both hands outstretched to grab Chrom by the neck, he plunged forward. He was laughing. As Chrom grappled with his clawing hands, Robin’s body laughed, guttural and terrible. They tumbled off onto the floor, the pain of the impact blurred by his intruder’s lack of concern for his body’s condition. Robin knew he had knocked his head on the ground, but the dizzying blow did not hinder his attack. He watched in the blurry struggle, as Chrom battled with overwhelming the body without hurting it.

There was pain not of the physical kind in Chrom’s grimace. Robin felt that tear at him. He willed himself control, fighting against the dark pressure of the blackness holding him down. First came the throbbing of his head and the burning of raw skin at his wrists. Then came heavy weight, suffocating at first, which he himself scrambled against, scared he would be crushed.

“Robin! Robin!”

A voice. Chrom’s voice, he was holding him. Holding him like he had been outside the tent earlier. As he kicked out with both his legs, he could feel the invisible hands pushing him away getting weaker and weaker. Chrom held him closer, tight enough to make his ribs hurt but Robin could _feel_ it. He clenched a hand against the ground, his own hand and finally, his mind was enough his own that he could speak.

“Chrom..” He rasped out, breathless, “This will not end simply by.. going on like this..”

Chrom’s voice was right next to his ear, and now Robin felt the rising and falling of Chrom’s chest, “I… have an idea. Although it is a little...” He paused a moment and Robin curiously shifted against him. “It is worth a try as much as anything.” Chrom finished, and Robin calmed finally in the arms of his lover once again. If Robin could list the aspects of Chrom to which he had come to love him so deeply by, to which such a list would be endless in his affection, he could always place Chrom’s optimism and his good will.

“Then let us take on that idea.” Robin responded and Chrom released him, this time, with caution and alertness. Robin let out a shaky breath and while there was a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, for the moment he was alone within himself.

“You regain your wits when I have you physically restrained.” Chrom started, standing swiftly and simply pushing his cape back behind him. “But for me to give you my full attention, my arms cannot be full, so I believe,” He shifted around a chest near the table, “Ah, yes. So I believe,” He returned the lid to the chest, “If we were to tie up your body, we could exhaust this terrible magic that has befallen you and gain back your body completely.”

“Tie me up?” Robin echoed, touching at his red skin along his arms where he and Chrom had struggled. He did it without thought, the burning of his wrist attracting his fingers.

Chrom came forward in several quick strides and Robin’s heart skipped a beat. Bending down, the rope sat in his hands, wrapped loosely in the middle around itself. “If you’ll let me.” He answered, looking straight and firm into Robin’s face. There was a small scratch along his jaw, probably from their tussle to the floor. Robin felt the guilt pooling in his stomach.

This was moving faster than he could process. He wanted a moment to think but when he looked at Chrom’s serious stare he simply nodded once, “Okay.” When Chrom pulled his arms back behind him, he felt a little twist of nerves with something else he couldn’t place settling hotly in his stomach and almost thought about saying something. Chrom pulled a little tighter and it rocked Robin forward, surprising him and throwing out any thought of what he might say. He tried to put a hand out to catch himself and quickly realized that Chrom now held all the control and stared dumbly at the floor of the tent.

The twisting and rubbing pulling at his skin was clear and biting and he clenched his teeth a few times to which Chrom apologized for, hearing the sharp intake of breath. It wasn’t that Chrom was particularly rough, it was his lack of familiarity in giving physical control away and the harshness to rope and bondage that he had never experienced.

“I only know how to tie your arms behind your back.” Chrom said from behind him but Robin’s ears were ringing and he barely heard, all the blood rushing to his head. He wiggled his fingers, feeling the pull of his strained skin and the hot heat of the pooling blood.

A hand carded through his hair softly and Robin lifted his head, realizing Chrom had finished and was now standing before him. His shoulders were already stiffening, a dull ache pulsing along his back muscles.

“It.. kind of hurts..” Robin commented breathlessly. His tone lacked accusation; Rather, he felt an overwhelming lack of ill will towards Chrom, and instead his cheeks flushed with the pain and arousal of being under the control of someone he trusted dearly. He felt wave after wave of calming arousal and restriction wash over him, relaxing his body and finally allowing him to breathe. The pressure of the ropes kept him focused on his present self- he was here, he was alive, this was his pain. This was his body.

“I know.” Chrom murmured back, thumb pressing delicately to Robin’s bottom lip and tracing its shape in deep, thoughtful affection. “Is it too much? Maybe this idea-“

“No,” Robin murmured, finally feeling the fog in his head really lift, “No, it’s okay…” He knew Chrom had not one cruel intention against him and that only heightened his feelings for this moment. He breathed out, cheeks warming under Chrom’s gaze and careful touch. The dull pain only intensified the jumble of sensations he was feeling for his prince and suddenly looking up at the affectionate gaze was too much.

Looking up at Chrom in the warm light made him look like an angel, his own personal angel from the heavens. Staring up at someone so bright, so pure and beautiful and giving, Robin couldn’t keep himself from turning his own gaze away. How could he stare so longingly at someone so great, someone so gracious-

A touch to his chin pulled his attention back up, a hand holding his chin, “Don’t look away from me, Robin.”

His stomach coiled so hotly and thickly, it almost hurt. Chrom held his face at an angle hard to pull away from and the longer they looked into each other’s eyes, the hotter his face became. Fumbling for the words, he began, “Chrom, I-“

Chrom ran a caressing thumb along his jaw and distracted him, pulling a small noise from him. Clenching his fingers into the tightest fists he could, relishing the stinging of their limits, Robin complained, “Chrom!”

A small chuckle. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He stepped back and gracefully lowered himself onto the bed, his smile unreadable. He stared at Robin’s form and he knew Chrom was examining him; the prince’s eyes were as if they were seeing all of him, naked down to the soul. He lowered his head and Chrom called to him, reaching out a hand.

“Come, Robin.”

The journey was harsh, too heavy on his knees and awkward. Robin almost fell over once, barely swinging his body back upright and even though it wasn’t that far a journey, the physical exertion made his back hot and he could feel a line of sweat run down between his shoulder blades. His body was aching all across and it was all his own. If he shuffled too fast, his shoulders stiffened and pulled at him and if he waited too long, his knees bruised. But not once did he think of not following Chrom’s lead.

When he was finally within touching distance of Chrom’s legs, he sank down gracelessly to the floor and rested his head against his lover’s thigh. His breathing was heavy, but the rawness of it all felt crystal clear. Chrom touched along his hair again, petting, “How do you feel?”

“I feel like myself again.” Robin breathed out, shifting so he could look up to Chrom who was smiling down at him. The prince leaned in, pulling them into their own separate world, “You are not alone in this battle.” He murmured into Robin’s open mouth, “I will never allow you to be overcome by something we can defeat together.” His long eyelashes fluttered against Robin’s cheek like a kiss and he stroked across Robin’s cheek with his thumbs as he rested back up. Robin couldn’t help but strain himself, rising up on his bruised knees to brush a kiss to Chrom’s lips, overcome with gratitude and love and admiration.

Chrom grabbed up both of Robin’s cheeks, cupping him with his hands and effectively holding him still. He smiled sweetly, “What a situation this has been, hm?” Chrom’s white teeth flashed and Robin stared intently at the handsome shadowed face luring him closer for another kiss with a pounding heart.

This time it was drawn out, warm with their soft chuckles to each other, amused now with all the serious danger gone. With Chrom’s hands holding him, Robin only had to let himself be led, meeting Chrom again and again for each kiss which grew bolder with every moment. Cheeks now flushed, Chrom opened his eyes slowly, eyelashes dark in the shadows.

“I have one final idea,” He murmured, voice low and sweet to Robin’s ears, adding once more, “If you’ll let me.”

The words almost made Robin laugh. _I’d let you do anything you want to me._ But that was what brought them together so well. Chrom always looked for Robin’s approval and Robin trusted Chrom deeply, following his lead without doubt and then they switched roles, creating a perfect circle of trust and responsibility. Robin in awe of the flush he had warmed Chrom’s cheeks to, he could only nod his head slightly before he was kissed gently again.

“Alright. Here, let me help you to the bed.”

The hands on his body were firm but alert, holding without rushing him. They assisted Robin to his feet, the shakiness in his knees heightening the faint dizziness swirling his mind which mingled strangely but not terribly with the aching pain of his body. With Chrom’s lead, Robin settled on the bed. Under these hands, Robin couldn’t help but feel strangely excited, antsy even, the throbbing pulsing through his arms and along his back only twisting into a fire across his skin. He flushed shyly, lowering his head, the heat escaping from his robe at his neck. Had he always been this shameless?

Chrom’s form sank the bed behind him, a hand never straying from a subtle, warm hold at Robin’s elbow. Even he, despite all the fear he had experienced earlier watching the fondness vanish from Robin’s eyes in simply a second, felt an energy melding between them and gazed affectionately at his lover’s exposed nape an extra moment before he laid a delicate kiss to the skin. A shiver beneath his lips brought a smile and he murmured, “Robin, rest against me.”

Robin swallowed, excitement and nervousness all trembled within him, pushing deep to his core and he folded back, angling himself so he would not lay directly on his own arms. The presence of Chrom enveloped him, the crook of Chrom’s neck and shoulder holding him perfectly. Or was he being brash? A wash of Chrom’s scent, tenderly nostalgic, melted into him, warming him all over again. His eyelashes fluttered down to Chrom’s hands, opening his robe with elegance. The folded and pushed away fabric only restricted him further and he glanced up along Chrom’s jaw in question before a gentle squeeze to his genitals through his pants startled him into understanding.

He twisted under the sudden heat of a hand, face blushing sweetly. “Chrom..?!” He breathed out, doubling over as the sweet pinch of abrupt arousal jumped up his spine. Chrom’s other hand slowly but firmly pushed him back by his chest, pressing him back into place. “Don’t run away.” He chided fondly, massaging Robin until he made a sweet noise and when he tried to cover his mouth, the bonds held strong and he flushed across his ears. It was merely moments of Chrom’s touch that had Robin stiff and burning with desire.

His head lolled forward, neck suddenly weak and Chrom followed, dropping a pinching kiss to Robin’s neck. By the pliant form of his lover’s body, the prince slid down Robin’s pants, leaving them bundled at the knees which gave him a surprisingly pleasant image to gaze at. The pale richness of Robin’s thighs contrasted with the arching, endearing pink of his erection for Chrom’s touch brought a devilish fire to his loins. The unraveled appearance of his mage only heightened the pleasure he obtained simply from looking, the folds and bunches of Robin’s clothes messy and inviting. He especially found the presence of Robin’s robe still loosely pulled along him, hiding what could normally be seen in moments such as this, an added touch.

With no further delay, he brought his lips down to Robin’s ear as he took ahold properly now of Robin’s penis with his hot hand. “Robin, this body can be no other persons besides yours but mine.” The smooth caress of Chrom’s palm squeezed Robin’s chest, a silvery line of his pleasure running down to the crook of the prince’s thumb. It was devilishly erotic and Robin turned his eyes away from it, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, overwhelmed.

It was all almost too much. The foggy blanket strangling Robin before now was long forgotten, burned away by hot pleasure and warm hands of a lover. It was not going to take long for Robin to come with Chrom’s hand, a hand he loved and admired deeply. He let out a choked breath, hands clenching and unclenching with no other means of release and he gasped, “Chrom-!” Before a strip of white painted up his chest and clung to his robe and shirt. His thrown back head gave Chrom a wonderful view of his face in ecstasy, his eyes roaming down the pinch of pleasure between Robin’s eyebrows to the heaving of his lover’s chest. They rested together as Robin calmed and collected his mind, the white of his pleasure becoming a smear across his thoughts.

When Robin’s eyes fluttered open, Chrom removed his hand gently from his groin, “Let me untie you.”

A little raw and a little numb from the intensity of it all, Robin simply settled forward and nodded. This numbness was sweet and loving, an embrace of Chrom’s presence, like the ghost of his hands on his body and soul.

Chrom returned with a damp cloth that he had used for his own hands and brought it gingerly to wipe Robin’s inner thighs and genitals. He smiled, looking into Robin’s face, a warmth still sitting on the mage’s cheeks that refused to fade. He touched the cloth softly to a spot along Robin’s neck and it flushed.

“Even all the way up there…?”

“Yes.”

Chrom laid the cloth to rest, and began to undo the knots he himself had tied, pulling free Robin’s arms. He held them in his hands, making sure to lower them slowly back to Robin’s sides. He knew as the blood rushed back through the limbs there would be pain and by the redness of Robin’s skin, the rope burn was quite aggravated. Robin let out a shaky breath, pulling his arms delicately to his lap to touch the raw, irritated flesh in quiet awe. His fingers were red, tingling and he clenched them experimentally.

Chrom looked down across the figure of his lover, softly caressing the budding bruise of his kiss on the back of Robin’s neck to card his fingers through his hair. The frailty exposed by this moment of intimacy made Chrom’s chest flood with a remorseful love. He sat next to Robin who looked to him, expression soft and unprotected. Chrom’s hand cupped one of Robin’s arms and he pulled it up, the tingling skin buzzing freshly making Robin tense. Chrom’s lips kissed the wrist bone, trailing down the arm towards the muscle of his forearm and Robin gasped at the sensation, flustered all over again.

Chrom laughed, looking up from his affection with a doting, pleased smile, “Do you feel embarrassed now, Robin? After everything?” Knowing Robin held no aggression, no lingering bitterness (a bitterness that had never had any hold to begin with) within him for Chrom, despite the bite of the rope coming by Chrom’s hand, made him swell with a confidence that drowned out a lover’s guilt for even the slightest of harm coming to their beloved.

Robin protested, “Which charming prince’s fault is that?”

Chrom’s teasing smile through Robin’s fingers made the mage feel the swooning sensation of falling in love all over again. It softened and Chrom murmured to Robin’s ring finger, “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Robin sighed, feeling content enough to just melt down into the blankets even in his stained robe and with his burning arms. Everything he was feeling was his own. The coolness of his naked skin, the hot prickling of his arms, and the warm fingers of sated desire in his stomach. His eyes drifted closed and for a brief moment between them he didn’t even realize Chrom was holding his face.

“You must be tired.” Chrom gave Robin’s cheek a loving stroke by his thumb and Robin smiled slightly, “Quite.”

“At the least take off your robe. I’ll have it washed.”

Robin had no mind to disagree and let Chrom slide him out of his outerwear, pulling his under clothes back into place with tired, weak hands. He rested back against the pillow, to see Chrom come back to the bedside in all his armored glory. His standing form above the bed was magnificent, powerful, royal and Robin’s. A gentle touch to his upper arm soothed him and he closed his eyes.

“Sleep Robin,” Came his lover’s voice, “You’ve fought and you’ve won. I will be here when you wake.”

And that was enough to comfort Robin in drifting to sleep where he met with mellow, faded dreams of a prince finding him in a field and bringing him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be trying to make more consistent updates now that my life has a little more structure so look out for the next chapter which will be containing a celebration for a battle well done, alcohol and (sweet) drunken interaction between our prince and his tactician. Thanks for reading!


	4. A Toast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebration is in order for the Shepherds at their victory. Chrom feels the weight of his royalty and finds solace in his lover's presence as they indulge in their own private celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I want to apologize for neglecting this project. I love these two so much and yet I haven't had a lot of confidence and time to continue working on writing projects. I've been moving towards changing that and so I appreciate everyone who has stuck around! I have a few more ideas for the next couple chapters so I hope they will be written within the next month or so! As always if you liked my self-indulgent shots of Robin and Chrom even just a little, that would make me the happiest. 
> 
> Just as a note, there is what can be considered underage drinking in this chapter but I have always viewed the youngest Shepherd, Donnie as being at least fifteen. I would gauge then Lissa to say to be about sixteen or seventeen personally. This is just my interpretation by the situation, their responsibilities and how I viewed the Awakening world. Still then, this is a fictional medieval based world and I would say there is leniency about a glass of wine and such. But just a warning!

From the winnings there came extravagance. Out of the requests from the Shepherds, not one was turned away with the reasoning of it being too farfetched so thus there was a bountiful feast and an endless well of drinks moving through the festive celebration. Chrom entitled his troop to their parties, their bonding over drink and rich food, now that they were deep into the political battle of his country. He loved his Shepherds and for that there was celebration of their success.

No one from the villages or towns that they held their celebration in was doored from joining in. Their current festivity was joined by many of those that were now at ease with the Shepherds shielding the country and a healthy glow had taken their usual solemn faces while drinking and holding conversation amongst the warriors.

Chrom moved through the open gathering, the sprinkle of stars glittering above them flushed with the warm light of the torches used amongst the tables. His eyes traveled along the faces of those he knew with great fondness and those he would greet and get to know. The awe at his presence was felt only in a humble love because he, too, was happy to be among his people. Moving along the parting crowd, Chrom waved to those who offered a greeting and stopped at each who thrust forward a handshake.

But deep within him there was ever budding worry and sympathy. Did his Shepherds need to work too hard? Was he leading them enough? Were they being given enough chances for their own future? He knew he must stay firm as a leader and by everything that was Chrom, he was. Naturally strong and optimistic, his shoulders bore the weight of royalty well and handsomely and his retreating back promised glory. Still he worried. Could he bring as much peace as he could bring a fight?

But when he looked upon his warriors’ smiling faces in the crowds, Chrom was given the strength to say to himself, for now this is enough.

“Chrom!” A voice called out to him, sweet and adoring and he turned to see Lissa smiling from a table over waving a tender hand.

As he approached, hand settling in habit on the hilt of his sword, he could see the gentle flush of her cheeks that had been warmed by a glass of wine and the close presence of her companions. Maribelle fluttered a glance up at Chrom from beneath her eyelashes and then said, “Your dear brother has finally decided to join the party. Care for a glass of wine?”

Lissa tipped her head towards Maribelle’s putting several fingers to her lips to hide a small laugh, “The wonderful aunty who runs the inn had saved this bottle for a special occasion! Isn’t that just wonderful?”

“Dare I say, even romantic.” Maribelle chimed in and the two girls shared a sweet look and giggle.

“I was actually hoping to share my first toast with Robin.” Chrom smiled, warmed by their contagious playfulness.

“Robin..” Maribelle’s eyelashes lowered, her smile showing a sharpness about the corners. Lissa still had a sweet naivety about her and she simply gazed up at her adored older brother without a thought more. “Robin? I’m not sure where he’s seated.” She hummed as she picked up a piece of cheese.

“Oh, Lissa, darling!” Maribelle cooed, “Ladies don’t nibble- here, dainty bites.” And their attention was swept up and away from their prince into a world of their own, leaving Chrom to visit other tables in search of his gentle lover.

He saw Sully throw an arm around Frederick’s neck, free arm raising a full mug to the stars. Even from a table over he could hear her voice call out, “It’s a drink-off! It’s not over till one of us can’t stand!”

The tension around the table rose and several mugs were thrust to the sky to match hers with shouts of approval. Chrom could see the troubled pinch of Frederick’s strong brow but they both knew there was no way he was going to talk his way out of a session with Sully. To the side, he caught the gentle smile of Stahl nursing his own mug next to Sully’s hip. She yanked her free arm around his neck as well, splashing him with not only his own drink but a little of her own as she called down to him, “You aren’t gettin’ outta this either, ya hear?”

Chrom chuckled from behind his hand. Robin wouldn’t be over there. He continued moving through the people. Cordelia was nursing Sumia a glass of water, her rosy cheeks against her soft, long eyelashes contrasted the cute ruffle of her usually well combed hair. Her expression was drawn in a pout and Chrom gave her a sympathetic look; she had always been a light weight.

But still no Robin. Chrom felt the flutter of his cape and turned, watching several kids run about him, laughing between each other. His gaze swept the festival once more, warm oranges and laughter bursting about with the torches. A hand came to his shoulder, strong and heavy.

“Well, well!” The mayor’s voice rumbled, “If it isn’t the prince! How are you enjoying our town’s offerings? I say we have some of the best ale for quite a ways.” The crinkle of his aged eyes showed kindness, offering the thousands of smiles he had given and the many more he was to give. As Chrom faced him fully though, he knew beneath the simple white of the man’s shirt there was muscle. He had the posture of a capable but humble man. He knew a man similar.

“It’s simply wonderful. We couldn’t have asked for better hospitality.”

Delight rose along his cheekbones and he gave one fond squeeze to Chrom’s upper arm. “Let’s share a toast. I will introduce you to my daughter.”

A coldness crept to life underneath his stomach. Hesitation caught his usually fluid expression and luckily the mayor had already moved past him to find a table to sit so he didn’t see the frown pull at the prince’s face. When had he begun to feel so conflicted about his duties? Where was all this anxiety coming from? Maybe his youth was becoming a distant thing and he was beginning to feel the actual weight of bearing royalty. The weight his sister carried perfectly.

He followed slowly behind the broad shoulders moving in the crowd. Still there were reaching hands that he shook and young children who pointed with excitement to his passing smile. As was his ascension to the throne, naturally he was to be married at some point. For the sake of the kingdom, for the heir, for the establishment of law and tradition. This had never bothered him before. But now there was an aching beneath his ribs that demanded his attention. An introduction was as much of an offering as anything.

Upon reaching the table, a lovely pink smile greeted him. A dip of her flowing skirts and a graceful extension of a soft pale hand followed, the exposed nape of a young woman bent in a bow sending something strange into Chrom’s stomach. A pale throat like someone’s he knew very well.

Her eyes were friendly and crinkled much like her father’s and for that he found her attention endearing. She had no ulterior motive and for all the introduction was, she was simply in good spirits for her town was safe and her people were alive. When she went to fetch the beer, her father smiled simply to Chrom across the table, a calm, comfortable air about him amongst the flurry of the party.

“Are you currently courting someone?”

The question caught Chrom off guard and he drew his hand in slightly from its position on the table, “Excuse me?”

“Please overlook my informality. I know even though this is a joyous time you are still our crowned prince.”

“No, please, no formalities are need.” Chrom lifted a hand, his heart tight in his chest.

For a moment they shared each other’s gazes. And then the man chuckled, “No time for love in this trying time?”

Bursting forth from the crowd, saving Chrom the need to respond to the mayor’s teasing words, his daughter arrived to the table, letting out a small laugh.

“It is quite crowded!” She offered one mug to Chrom, one to her father and kept the third for herself, sitting in one fluid motion while keeping her skirt out of the way. “Your Shepherds are quite amazing drinkers! Let us toast to that!” She smiled from beside him, lifting her mug towards the center of the table, “Cheers to the Shepherds!”

A roar of excitement burst around them, mugs flying in to join the infamous toast with the prince. So they drank. It was merry and lonely all at the same time and Chrom found himself at the bottom of his beer with a heavy longing to see a certain kind-hearted, honest smile. But he had no say in the matter of at least another mug and found himself three mugs in before he was allowed to step away with the excuse of needing the restroom.

Settling up against the cold brick of a building just outside the festivities grounded him but pulled him even further into the sinking pit of loneliness he had clawing in the pit of his stomach. He was head over heels in love. Desperately and deeply devoted. What was he to do with his lineage-

“Chrom?”

A terribly familiar voice. Chrom looked up, surprised and a little flushed and saw Robin approaching with two mugs, one in each hand. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” What a sight for his sore heart.

Chrom stared into those honest and beautiful eyes looking up at him as if he held the world. Would Chrom know of a more enchanting and gentle love than the one he had fostered? It was possible but he knew somehow deep inside him that he would never find himself strong or willing enough to stray from his tactician’s side by his own desire. Just by looking into that loving gaze and smile did he find himself weak and yet…

Swooping forward he grabbed Robin up in a tight hug, jostling the mage and sending them both back a step.

“Chrom-! The beers-!” But there was only fondness in that voice.

Heart racing, mind blank and chest tight and full, Chrom only buried himself deeper into the familiar scent of Robin’s cloak. “Sorry. I must be a little drunk.” He said more out of trying to mask the vulnerability he felt, the rawness of his emotions than out of the truth.

Robin looked up at him as Chrom pulled back. “Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

Knowing he must reign in all of his flooding sentiment and pain, he pushed forth a slight smile, “Yes, let’s.” He was touched by the mage’s heart, the immediate and honest concern and allowed himself to be led to some steps nearby, looking at the charming line of the mage’s nape in the dull light of the nearby lamps.

After they sat, Robin lowered the beers to the stone and pressed the cool back of his hand to Chrom’s cheek, “You are a little warm. Do you want me to get you some water-“ But Chrom’s hold on his hand prevented him from standing and he slowly settled back down. “Chrom?”

Searching eyes gently swept over Chrom’s tight expression, and now there was worry, sweet, endearing worry etched in Robin’s brow. How it gave the prince such mixed feelings. He was greatly touched that such concern could be shown for him and in many ways it was love that fostered such attention. This he knew but he also did not want to cause distress to his gentle lover who could not give him a more pure and devoted affection. A lover he could not see sitting beside him in marriage on the throne. A lover he needed more than he wanted the throne.

“What is the matter, Chrom?” Robin whispered, “Has something happened? Did they make you drink too much?” His fingers trailed along Chrom’s jaw in a caress, cupping his face.

But these were things he could not simply share. When the drink wore off and the rising light of morning kissed the sky with promise of anew, he would be reborn again as a proud prince with no weaknesses. His lips pressed into a tighter line. He both longed and dreaded the coming suns, knowing with them came change. And he knew that these things plaguing his heart were his to bear and his alone. Slowly, he was beginning to know the burdens of his elder sister, bit by bit as the royal crest bled into everything that was his, even his most private affairs.

Eyelashes heavy, he stared into eyes that promised momentary bliss, “Indulge a selfish prince?”

Voices echoed up the stairs from the town square, a distant reminder of the party they both had left behind. Privately, step by step, they entered their own world, intimate and fragile. Robin leaned in deeper, murmuring with a coy upturn of his lips against his lover’s, “Anything.”

So maybe his future was still waiting along the horizon but for now he knew he was to have Robin and to keep Robin by his side. Moving through the drunken celebration carefully hand in hand, he had security of this. Maybe there would be a drunken gaze that would see the two lovers sneak into the inn but Chrom needed to believe in the privacy of their emotions. The inn master would look upon them with knowing eyes and offer them the sweet vow of silence. A tenderness was to be felt by those who knew of love stricken with a winding painful fate.

The lock of the key and the flickering life brought to the room by the candle was romantic and distracting to the prince’s heart. Robin touched along the armor that shielded his lover in battle and simultaneously felt along the barriers that were keeping Chrom’s most private emotions secret.

“Can I?”

Even if Robin pulled back every bit of armor that kept him safe, Chrom would never deny him.

“Of course.” He murmured in the darkness, watching the fluid motion of his lover’s hands pull apart all his layers. The unlatching and unbuckling and then the worshipping. He thought maybe he would suffocate under his own affection, looking upon the lowered head as Robin placed a fluttering kiss to Chrom’s now bare hand. His cape slithered to the floor and as Robin smoothed his hands across Chrom’s chest, the prince let out a sigh. He loved this man.

Robin’s gaze lifted in question but looking into the loving eyes of his beloved partner he simply pressed a kiss to his handsome lips. He hooked his slender fingers into the man’s pants and tugged down, slowly kneeling with them. Pulling away each piece of clothing, each boot, each indicator that he was a prince at all, lifted a weight from him. Tonight he was Chrom, partner and lover to Robin. Not even his crest could take that from him.

Robin kissed his bare legs, starting at his knees and moving up to his hips, fingers soft and terribly gentle as they drifted across his skin. Sparkling eyes looked up at him from over his own skin and shamelessly Robin gave him a small show kiss to his hip bone again, “Let’s move to the bed, shall we?” His lips kissed right above the line of his pubic hair, lingering.

Chrom’s hand couldn’t resist sweeping through Robin’s hair, arousal budding at the mage’s touch like a spell. “Not before I am allowed the show of seeing you undress.” He murmured back, falling in love with the exposed skin of Robin’s forehead and the line of his brow. How pretty, how special.

“Anything for my prince.” Robin said genuinely and unhooked his robe right there on his knees, sincere and yet playful. He let the robes part, revealing the curve of his shoulders, a sharp white to the darkness. Then he simply stood out of the robes, coming forward to press his still clothed body to Chrom’s naked.

“You’re warm.” Eyelashes slipped closed and Robin tucked his head beneath Chrom’s chin for a brief moment. Hands trailed down the muscles of the prince’s back and then Robin stepped away, smiling. He pulled free of his shirt, shaking his hair back into place and without any provocation simply stepped free of his own pants. He need not play for the prince’s lust and both need not perform to keep the other’s undivided attention.

Offering a hand, Robin indicated with a gentle turn of his head to the bed and Chrom took it without hesitation. He would be loved tonight and find he too needed celebration of their success, although maybe not in the same way as his Shepherds. But there was one Shepherd who could satisfy his requests. One tender-hearted mage who could satisfy all of his heart’s longings.

One spell caster who could pull him out of the drowning weight of royalty and show him the present, one filled with private sweet moments under the covers and the deepest of loyalties. Robin shamelessly loved him to the core of his person and that was all the prince could ever need. The warmth of a mouth on him, and the flush of longing burning a face he found so endearing filled him to the brink and he was quick despite the beer. What Robin could do to him!

Robin’s smiling face wiping along his pink lips with his thumb was treacherous to his flaring need. “You are quick to rise again, my prince.” He teased and Chrom found his smile again.

“Now we can only give that praise to a certain someone. I do believe it’s my turn.” He trailed a graceful finger along Robin’s inner thigh as they turned over for each other in perfect sync.

Until the late hours, right before the sun would bleed the sky into a beautiful portrait of passion, they would love each other, indulging in their closeness and filling the prince back up into the powerful, confident man he was with knowing who gave him full support. Sleeping in to the chirping birds in an inn deep in the countryside with their tangled limbs, Chrom would see dreams of, instead of glory, a smiling face turning to him in the fields, waving him closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will include training for battle and Chrom's conflict!


	5. The Weight of a Training Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delving into Chrom's complicated feelings about the fate that him and his Shepherds must face (both known and unknown), we follow the prince as he experiences the ups and downs of a day at the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of like opening doors and looking into castle life following Chrom to a degree. I like the brevity of scenes like that so I wrote a chapter of them. I'm going to add notes at the end about some of the choices I made for the chapter so if you want to read them knowing some of the development process before reading then just jump down there! 
> 
> Otherwise I wanted to write a chapter that held some weight for characters other than just Chrom and Robin so this one includes one of my favorites, Frederick. For the conflict that arises, I wanted there to be a difference of opinions that neither side is just Obviously right. I wanted to try to grasp the heavy burden of having to make decisions when personal values come into play and some of Chrom's other relationships. As we are five chapters in you can see a theme of how I like to portray Chrom and maybe Robin so I hope that this angle is one you can enjoy!

Crisp, pleasant Spring wind and the comforting presence of the sun’s rays brought a smile to the prince’s face as he stepped down out of the cold stone innards. What a relief it was to be out from the castle’s indoor responsibilities, away from political rhetoric and paperwork. He savored a fresh breath of air. Walking down the stone steps, the glistening warmth of the well-groomed ground in the training area beckoned for him and he couldn’t resist taking a step from the shadowed walk way into the dirt. 

The walls surrounding the arena gleamed proudly in the daylight but stood with resounding silence. There was nothing to be heard but the birds, coming and going as they pleased. Chrom slid a hand to the hilt of his sword. There was a little bit of guilt settling in his stomach for leaving Emmeryn to handle the afternoon alone amongst the council but they both knew he was to grow restless and still had time to mature. She would give him that time. 

Nostalgia blossomed in her patience and Chrom found himself recalling his endless summer days of training at this very spot, nestled within the castle walls. Wooden swords and the bittersweet welts of mistakes on tanned skin. His sister’s gaze from the upper window where she would be studying and Lissa’s maids fussing over her pigtails off in the shade where they developed their healing hands. But thinking of it now, what loneliness weighed in his sister’s tender smile from that window. And what ignorance he flourished in. His eyes wandered up the walls, looking into his childhood view and that very window.

Only curtains stared back at him now.

“My lord.”

Turning in the sunlight, the glistening beauty of armor polished carefully and a shimmering royal smile greeted the knight, “Ah, Frederick.” Letting thoughts of the past move to the back of his mind, he stepped towards the other man standing firmly in the shade of the walkway.

“How do you feel?” A slight upturn of the man’s lips, dashing and one could even say playful to Frederick’s usually serious demeanor. The line of his jaw against the knowing glint in his eyes was charming and they both knew he was speaking to many things beneath the question.

“I thought some fresh air would help strengthen my resolve.”

A fond arch of one dark eyebrow as if to say, ‘and?’

“One breath of fresh air only leads to the next it seems.”

Frederick hummed noncommittally but to Chrom’s knowing eye, he was amused. Unfolding his arms, the knight placed one heavy hand to Chrom’s shoulder while walking into the sun, “Your sister will be troubled.”

Turning to follow, Chrom’s steps slowed, “She will forgive me.”

There were unspoken things lingering between them, both to Chrom’s comfort and his shortcomings. He stared at the armored figure of his closest and longest standing ally and friend. Power that mirrored Emmeryn’s lined his back: the presence of discipline and a justice prevailing personal desire. Although she had a gentleness about her stance, he knew that it was not weakness that rounded her shoulders and let her head bow before others. Frederick’s manners proved such. Swiftly he brought a hand up to his face blocking the hard object ready to strike him, breaking him from his thoughts like the shattering of a mirror.

Lowering his hand, he found a slender wooden training sword sitting in his palm.

“Seems your reflexes aren’t those to take time off, unlike someone.” Frederick’s eyelids lowered as he pulled another sword from the barrel and twirled it with one fine flick of his wrist as he approached, steps showing calculation.

Chrom mirrored the movement but backwards, stepping into the flow naturally, flipping the sword into position, “Always looking for those details, aren’t you, Frederick. That’s what makes you a great captain.”

They circled each other, slow and thoughtful, watching one another in the midday sun. Chrom knew Frederick was pulling him out of his thoughts, bringing him into the moment. He couldn’t wade in his memories and worries and still be serious in training. He defended from a blow coming harsh and heavy on his left, a brutal horizontal swing relying on strength and ducked the returning strike from the opposite direction when the recoil allowed Frederick the advantage.

Bringing down an attack, Chrom tried to catch one of his knight’s shoulders but Frederick knocked it back and both swords met in the middle for a small parry. Knowing of Frederick’s solid stance, there was no logic in going for his legs which in the past had taken many a blow in exchange for knocking Chrom atop the skull.

They returned to a slow circle, both processing the other. A fine line of sweat kissed Chrom’s neck and he let out a breath, showing a loose, free smile, “As usual your strength is complimented by your mind.”

“Flattery will not distract me, my lord.” Frederick jabbed once and then again, forcing Chrom to retreat, “But thank you.” A slight upturn of usually serious lips in the sunlight brought out a laugh from the prince and he came forward confidently, swinging pretty, curved, figure eight-like blows.

“You know,” He said as their swords cracked against one another, “There is only one person who I subject to my flattery.”

With a heavy arm, Frederick brought up an underhanded strike, knocking Chrom’s arm out of their rhythm and forcing him to spin out of the way of a vertical slash.

“Don’t pull me into your personal affairs.”

Chrom’s cape fluttered sweetly in the wind and he chuckled, respecting the strength of Frederick’s over the shoulder defense at his attempt to catch his back. “Please, you are quite more involved than you like to admit. And,” He brought around a strong swing, a solid impact on Frederick’s sword, “I appreciate it, Frederick.” Their eyes caught and something pinched in the knight’s expression.

“My lord-“

“Chrom! Frederick!” A voice interrupted them and both men turned in the light, arms lowering at Robin’s approach, hand raised in a greeting.

Hair shimmering in the rays, Robin stepped out into the dirt, “Wonderful weather today, is it not?” The hot shadows along his face from his eyelashes and bangs were pretty against the white of his skin. A concerned wrinkle found his brow, “I’m sorry, I’m interrupting, aren’t I?”

“Of course not, we were just getting in a little bit of practice.” Chrom offered a tender smile, sword settled and tame by his side. Frederick held his half stance another moment and then relaxed more fully.

“I had just finished accounting for the rations used since our last encounter with that village up along the mountain side, the one where we received those wonderful thick blankets when I heard the sound of your training.” Robin lifted the paperwork in his hand.

“Are you taking it before the council?” Chrom took a step closer, eyes lingering on the stack pulled together by a dark piece of cloth.

“I will later on this evening for the tactical meeting.”

Frederick pulled away from the conversation but still spoke over his shoulder, “Then there is still time before then and quite a few swords left; why don’t you join us, Robin?”

Both men turn to look at Frederick who pulled free from the barrel another training sword. In the shadow of the wall his eyes were dark and heavy underneath his brows and the contrast to the Robin’s open, ever honest gaze, one with no barriers and complexity for his honesty was powerful to Chrom’s watching eyes. Watching Frederick come back into the light, the muscles along his back unclenched and he tried to let out a non-assuming breath, surprised by his tenseness. Frederick was merely his usual serious self.

Brows pinched in the heat, Frederick passed the sword with the hilt facing the mage and let Robin take it into his hand, “In the event of the unexpected it is better to over prepare than to wait for the moment to overtake you.”

“I think too it is a good idea to have skill in these areas. Thank you; I’ll be under your care.” Robin’s smile, soft and gentle moved Chrom’s heart, and as the day had proven, he felt a twist of something mirroring nostalgia, an ache that hurt like loneliness even though Robin was standing before him. His emotions today were brazen and he once more attempted to reign them in, trying for a smile.

“Frederick is a smart teacher; it is good to get these one-on-one moments. Let me with your paperwork.”

“I am not forgiving.” Frederick’s tone weighed on the prince as he stepped out of the way and while he gazed upon the two, he found his smile had already left him. “The battlefield is not a place for weakness, of any kind.” The words hung in the hot air but despite Chrom’s staring, Frederick did not open any communication with him and refused to meet his gaze.

Robin took his stance, “I would not have you train with me any other way.”

But there was uneasiness within the prince. His eyes drifted along the scene, to where his sister used to sit on the far wooden bench and the white piercing walls and Robin, kind, beautiful Robin and the knight who knew of such strength and discipline he seemed to stand even taller and more domineering than usual.

The first strike of wood rang out into the walls and surprised the prince, whose nerves seemed uneasy. But when he looked upon the scene, he did see Robin held himself strong to Frederick’s weight as they pushed against one another. As if he was himself working that sword, his heart raced with the adrenaline of a fight.

But Robin also knew he was no match for a game of chicken to Frederick’s physical strength. The concentration pulled between his brows was one serious and thinking and an expression Chrom had seen in many other places, specifically on the battlefield. What he wouldn’t do to keep that expression at bay, or to simply the evenings of reading scrolls in the library. But these were selfish thoughts he imprisoned to his mind and his mind alone.

Throwing his sword arm up and away, relying on Frederick to still be trying to bully Robin to his knees, Robin freed himself from the inevitable and Frederick’s sword dropped heavy, allowing Robin room to maneuver away and throw his own swing from the left. But Frederick had already pivoted and met him with as much force, putting pressure to Robin’s groundwork. He slid in the dirt hard but pulled free again and ducked a horizontal slice ready to put him out of the duel.

Frederick jabbed down, wrist fluid and understanding of his target’s size, leading Robin to a defensive retreat who rolled from the blows. When he lifted his head, his throat met the tip of his opponent’s sword and he looked up along the body cascading shade on his face.

Chrom found himself several steps closer than before, clutching the paperwork, body tense. A real battle would have rendered Robin- no, but this was merely training. Where was his mind taking him? And in the safety of his own home? Frederick and Robin shared his shade, the heat of the sun settled on the man’s back and he tapped the under of Robin’s jaw.

“Again. Stand.”

Robin stood, taking his stance. When their swords met, Frederick was quick to pull away and throw blows and he spoke between them.

“You cannot rely just on what is perceived as the perfect opening. Tactical retreat is not as easy up close. I can see your moves too.” He walked, his steps knowing of no hesitation, forcing Robin back. The power lining each blow could be felt even by Chrom who had shared the recoil Robin was experiencing against his body blocking the attacks.

Suddenly sweeping his sword away from the pattern, he slammed a wicked cut into Robin’s side, throwing him into the dirt. This almost brought Chrom to shouting, but the tightness in his throat didn’t dissipate and instead almost choked him when he saw Robin roll in the dirt, face squeezed against the pain.

“And it is not enough to simply meet me at each of my moves. You are well aware of this.” Frederick spoke from above the mage, who still held his sword strong but had his other hand cradled his side.

He let out a winded laugh, “It is true. Although easier thought than actually done.”

Frederick gave him a slight cock his lips, acknowledging said words. He offered a hand which was taken in thanks.

“Let us go again.”

Robin wiped the dirt from his cheek, and turned his sword back to Frederick who flipped his own with a roll of his wrist back into position.

“From your mistakes you must learn to accept the blow with precision. If you miss a step,” Frederick came forward, slow and deliberate, “You must learn personal responsibility to not let whatever the enemy takes from your negligence to render you unable to fight.”

The bleeding heat now hurt Chrom’s eyes as he watched on, knowing he was just waiting for it all to be finished. Rather, he was hoping it would finish. Must Frederick throw the sword with his whole strength?

Robin watched Frederick, and pulled away from the first vertical swing instead of meeting it head on. Frederick whirled around and met with Robin’s attempted attack but Robin was quick to try his angles. The hard echo of wood on wood in the air and the gravel beneath feet heavy. They held each other on each new swing, coming forward with the hopes of sliding free of the other’s imprecision. Sword held forward for defense, Frederick brought around his free hand in a fist. Weapon dropping below the line of his hand, which Robin saw a second too late, the blow slammed into his lifted arm as he was fumbling to protect his face. This broke his stance, and left him open to another side numbing hit from Frederick’s blade on the opposite side knocking the mage back to the ground.

Chrom could stand by no more and when Robin had lifted his head, the aching of his trembling arm and pulsing side holding the grimace to his face, he found himself behind the proud back of his most beloved. The flutter of the prince’s cape half hid him from his opponent but he looked on between Chrom’s limbs at the pinch in Frederick’s expression.

“My lord?” He asked, tone holding heavy and serious. It was more than just a question. There was a line of sweat on his brow trailing to his jaw which spoke in the sun’s rays to his dedication although Chrom would call it differently.

“There is no reason to hit him with such strength, Frederick!”

A moment was held between them for the knight to think. The beating sun and the silence hanging on them left Robin speechless.

When Frederick finally spoke, his words were slow and deliberate as he knew the prince was already well aware of them. “Training calls for each member to be as serious as possible.”

“There are limitations. It lacks meaning to injure him here amongst our own.”

“This is to prevent fatal injury later on. We are all ready to take on the wounds of training for the sake of facing the true cruelty of battle.”

“I still see no reason still to beat him in preparation for something that will not come!” Chrom’s refusal to back down lit a righteous fire beneath his knight.

“What do you fear my lord? That he will die? There will be loss in battle! You will suffer it, we will suffer it but you must remain strong! You must be the one prepared to hold yourself at the face of that loss! That is your role as our leader! How can we wade through despair heads held high if you cower at the thought of losing one of your comrades?” He pointed his sword to Robin who was still on the ground, “He is prepared to give his life to our cause!”

Chrom had words he was aching to throw out, despite it all, without thought to his royal lineage and his role. Hot-blooded, still young and fresh and desperate for there to be minimal loss, he didn’t know how to simply accept the idea of grief being unavoidable.

“If I so hold power to change the path of fate for the people, it shan’t overlook those who give themselves to its protection!”

Dead serious eyes under a tight brow, “You can’t believe just the will of one man can prevent death. We all need training to understand what will come at us in battle.”

Robin pushed himself up in the corner of Chrom’s gaze.

“It is not the will of one man, it is the will of the Shepherds and I believe our strength is one that shall work against even bad odds.”

Frederick sighed heavily, “My lord.”

Chrom knew of things he was avoiding response to that sat between them hot and wicked like a fire not made by man’s hand. But he turned away from it. “If I cannot be the strength of optimism and faith even in the worst of times then I cannot be the kind of leader I admire the most. Because you are here, I can hold true to my beliefs, despite it all. I am not a leader who wants to push his Shepherds till it pains them. You are my reason, Frederick.” There was intimacy in the prince’s words and one for just the two of them in their friendship.

Robin stood quietly on the side, knowing of his presence in a private conversation.

“You are my ground and for that there can be no end to my thanks. But please, know I am also just a man…”

“My lord..”

“I cannot so easily watch my loved ones die or even to be injured. There is no preparation my heart can take for such tragedy. For all my power, I am just a man and I hold things dear to me. You stand here before one and knowing of others. Please, for today, let this be.” Words lingered between them. _I am not strong enough to bear the loss. ___

__Frederick turned his sword away from both men, and back to stand-by position. They held together a long silence under the heat of the sun. Rays that had known their backs and swords for many hours. Frederick seemed to settle his thoughts and gave a slight bow of his head, “Yes, my lord. Let us finish for today.” He turned to Robin and gave another polite nod before collecting the swords._ _

__

__When Robin looked back to Chrom, he saw the prince’s gaze looking deep into a high window on the far wall._ _

__

__xxx_ _

__

__The tactical meeting was held without Chrom but Frederick stood in as usual, firm and solid. Robin still felt the dull pain of their duel in his ribs, and it made him a little breathless as he presented his accounts. But among those present there were no ill words and rather the discussion moved with a smooth swiftness of those aware of what was needed to be said. With such dedicated members to their cause, all paperwork was done well and seriously and more so it was just to affirm all were on the same page. The Shepherds had spent a little over a week’s time home and so now their meetings were more so to confirm there were no unaccounted loose ends. The council approved of such._ _

__

__Robin was relieved to find he was soon on his way towards the royal chambers and one he frequented often. But when he arrived, he found himself hesitating at the door to knock and instead thoughtfully touched his forehead gently to the wood. What words could he give to times when his brightest light was flickering in his troubles? His hand slid softly down the smooth surface. Could he offer anything worthy of letting the prince’s heart rest even for just the night? The weight on Chrom’s shoulders was not one he could easily dismiss and one complicated, deep and rooted to things only fate could change. The lives of his comrades was something he too felt hung on him and his decisions deep into the night. And the only one who could pull him back out of his painful thoughts was… He would simply have to try._ _

__

__At his knock, a voice rang through the door._ _

__

__“Come in.”_ _

__

__The space had become heavy with the gravity of the conversation left earlier on the training grounds but Robin knew of only his honesty and came to sit by his lover on the bed. Chrom’s folded presence was a sharp sting to Robin’s heart as there could only ever be the deepest of sympathies between them. How much he wished he could become strong enough for Chrom to ever smile from his highest of optimisms. He carried a healthy guilt and responsibility._ _

__

__The prince did not raise his head from where he held it on his intertwined fingers. While it was unlike him to simply bare the hardship of his worries on his sleeve for those to see, Robin knew that it was in no mere public space that he had shown his raw heart._ _

__

__Gently he put a hand to the man’s back._ _

__

__“Please talk to me about what is on your mind.”_ _

__

__Chrom turned to him, his frown etched so deeply into his brow that Robin’s hand moved up to touch the pained expression involuntarily. And Chrom took hold of that hand and pressed it to his face, closing his eyes for several long seconds._ _

__

__Then as if he released the sharpest hurt sitting inside of him with one sigh, he relaxed and sat up more fully._ _

__

__A wry smile pulled his handsome lips and he dropped a kiss to Robin’s knuckles, “How did the meeting go?”_ _

__

__A tender look caught on Robin’s face but what he wouldn’t do for the prince was a list of absolutely nothing and so he murmured, “It went fine,” Another gentle kiss to his knuckles, “Everything has been accounted for.” And another._ _

__

__“That is good to hear. Excuse me for being absent.”_ _

__

__“Of course, Chrom..” All the words he wished to say stayed locked within his chest, knowing it was the only by the prince’s hand and key that such conversations would begin even if he was willing to have them._ _

__

__The knowing gaze settled on his face brought him back to the moment and Chrom touched along Robin’s fingers with his hands. “Show me your injuries.” His fingers ghosted across Robin’s palm and then slowly pushed up the sleeve of his robe._ _

__

__The budding of a bruise was faint on Robin’s skin but the darkening spot was tender and promised a deep color in the coming days. His arm had stopped throbbing since the meeting had started but Chrom’s eyes showed no relief looking upon the bare flesh of his lover. A complicated expression had taken hold of the prince’s face._ _

__

__“And the other?”_ _

__

__“Shall we go to the baths then?” Robin offered, knowing Chrom’s mood would only worsen at the sight of his torso. Holding it still in his muscles, he refrained from touching his aching ribs so not to worry his lover. It was merely a reflex for vulnerability._ _

__

__“The baths…” Chrom echoed quietly. But he seemed satisfied with the idea and agreed, “Yes, let’s do that.”_ _

__

__The privacy of the royal baths was one Robin had come to discover with great surprise and excitement. When he had been accepted into the Shepherds he had become used to the communal bathing outdoors or in taverns with hot springs or large baths split by gender. Lacking of memories, he had yet to experience the quiet, romantic air of a bathing room for just the few. Now such circumstances in the castle were a special, relaxing slice of alone time._ _

__

__Before actually entering the room to bathe, there was the changing room and a place typical for there to be servants whether cleaning or helping with changing and dressing. But sending word ahead, Chrom reserved the space and upon walking into the room, just the warm silence of the lamps welcomed them._ _

__

__Their night clothes were set in two of the baskets alongside two towels atop the wooden shelf but they were alone. The distant sound of water on the other side of the curtain echoed pleasantly as if calling them. Chrom placed a careful hand at the small of Robin’s back before slipping around him._ _

__

__He came to the dark wooden shelf centered on the wall and lifted an item from the shelf below it. Robin watched, coming forward slowly. The gentle scent of incense wafted up as Chrom pulled from the jar one stick to light in the nearby lamp. He settled the stick into the wooden case, the soft glow pretty against his fingers._ _

__

__Turning back to his lover who was looking on in soft, quiet affection Chrom lay a gentle kiss to Robin’s lips. The hands that unlatched his robes were careful as well._ _

__

__When he stood almost naked, covered by just his underclothes, a bit of anxiety pulled at his stomach. It was dull and lacked strength with the calm atmosphere but he found himself nibbling at his bottom lip when Chrom took hold of the bottom of his shirt._ _

__

__He was quick to look down, desperate for it to not be serious, to not look as bad as when it snatched his breath away. But the white of his skin was quick to color and both lovers knew such truths as when times of passion took hold and marks were left for the next morning to blush about._ _

__

__It was sore to the touch although both men knew not to simply put their fingers to the purpled skin. The color was a deep slap of maroon and rich blood and on both sides, the right a little higher than the left. These were the remains of his earlier duel._ _

__

__Robin tore his eyes back up to Chrom, worried for the prince’s reaction and met sad, reflective eyes._ _

__

__“Does it hurt?” Chrom finally spoke, still fully dressed and gloved as he ran a hand down Robin’s bare arm._ _

__

__There would be no lying to the prince tonight. “It’s a little tender.” He admitted, “But it’s simply a bruise and it will fade.”_ _

__

__Many thoughts that Chrom was likely not to share ran past in his eyes. Robin watched on, wishing he would share some of the burden, even if just a little. But his prince was strong and knew of discipline with his words. The warm glow of the room hung around them, touching their skin. Chrom suddenly sighed and drew Robin into a hug, head resting down on the man’s shoulder._ _

__

__“Chrom?”_ _

__

__Deep longing for times of peace welled up inside him and threatened to strangle the weakness right from him. He held tight and despite trying to be cautious of Robin’s pain, he squeezed the man a little closer to himself. How bittersweet it was having a love that knew no depths. He had learned of another half of himself, and yet now he felt if he lost it, then there would be no returning to a him without Robin. He didn’t know why he had become so fixated on the idea of loss but there was something uneasy sitting within him that he could not just ignore._ _

__

__Of course he did not know of what was to come and yet was aware that this was the same with every battle that he put not just Robin but all his Shepherds in. Trust would have to make up for his fear. Maybe it was just Frederick’s spoken and unspoken warnings settling inside him uncomfortably._ _

__

__But Robin was here and in his arms and so Chrom picked up the pieces of his struggling heart and pulled himself together. He straightened up, touched by the reflection of warmth in his lover’s eyes. “I’m glad it’s not more serious. Let me undress and let us enter the bath.” He began to unlatch his cape when Robin’s hands reached up and stopped him._ _

__

__“Let me.”_ _

__

__xxx_ _

__

__The warm waters soothed Chrom’s battered heart and seeing the falling stars of water droplets along Robin’s bare back rejuvenated a healthy spirit within him. Robin wading through the water, hair kissing his nape was simply a healing sight._ _

__

__The rich aroma of the bath salts and rose water calmed his mind and for a moment he even drifted, sitting in the warmth along the bath’s wall. A tickling touch trailing up his bare arm aroused his attention and a playful smile met him when he opened his eyes._ _

__

__“I seem to have fallen asleep.” He commented softly, keeping the words between them and away from the echoes._ _

__

__“Your dosing face was just as handsome.”_ _

__

__“It is not a rare occurrence for you to see.”_ _

__

__Robin looked at him fully, eyes reflecting the petals dancing in the water, “And yet it pleases me just as much each time.”_ _

__

__Chrom leaned in and their lips touched, words now intimately soft, “Look at me more.” Oh, maybe his weakness was still leaking through, just a little. Such serious words…_ _

__

__Robin chuckled though, and murmured, “If I looked at you any more I wouldn’t get any work at all done.”_ _

__

__A wonderful tightness pulled the prince into a fantastic grin. Love was both heavy in good ways and painful ways. “Well, well, now that would be a problem.” He dropped several kisses to Robin’s warmed skin, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips several times more. He led Robin forward, each kiss a little longer with a little more touching._ _

__

__Soon Robin was sitting his lap, their foreheads touching and the heat of their cheeks mingling. And Chrom was full of a heat for Robin and Robin alone. If just for delicate moments meant for privacy, he thought he should be allowed no distraction._ _

__

__Robin’s hand slid down between them, touching him and feeling along the already weighty arousal showing for him. He let out a hot breath against Chrom’s shoulder, eyelashes heavy with water as he looked down._ _

__

__He glanced upward, rosy and pleasantly surprised when underneath the water their hands touched. Chrom smiled, and took hold of both their fancies, long fingers wrapping around both of them. Robin’s breath came out airy, a little excited and, lifting his arms from the waters, he looped them around Chrom’s shoulders loosely._ _

__

__The rippling movement of water and petals around them and Robin’s fluttering breath touched Chrom who dropped a kiss to a bare shoulder and then a bare neck. He relished the pretty shiver that ran along Robin’s body at his touch. The wetness gave great fluidity to his hand and he found no resistance speeding his tempo up which made those white, warm arms curl around him tighter._ _

__

__“Chrom…”_ _

__

__Robin’s cooled bangs touched his skin when the mage pressed his forehead to the crook of Chrom’s throat. A small noise, pleased and tight, was fuel to Chrom’s internal fire and he himself had grown hot, the water only making the heat sit on his face even more obviously._ _

__

__His free hand, unashamed to roam anywhere it so pleased trailed up a thigh close to his hip and then without a second thought along Robin’s torso to sneak up his back. When he thought about it briefly in worry, he realized Robin hadn’t flinched to the touch. A heavy breath and an unexpected blanket of something akin to respect or maybe realization. Robin could handle the weight of a sword too._ _

__

__Touched, moved in waves, Chrom squeezed them both and kissed the skin before him. He knew of Robin’s strength a thousand times over but love made him protective, made him weak at the thought of blood where it need not be._ _

__

__Robin’s breath caught, and the sharp intake of air between teeth caught Chrom’s attention. He pressed himself close and whispered into a flushed ear as Robin came, “I love you.”_ _

__

__xxx_ _

__

__Robin had moved his hand between them for Chrom’s completion and looking into those ever loving eyes made the prince almost woozy and they both left the bath a little overheated and chuckling._ _

__

__There were many shows of love between them, many unspoken languages that could hold as much power as the ones spoken. They dressed, the faint drift of smoke lulling Robin into a drowsy, content mood. He let Chrom brush his hair into place and although Chrom would have gladly carried the mage back to their room, Robin refused, laughing._ _

__

__But he was quick to sleep, pulling at Chrom’s hand when the prince sat on the bedside rather than enter the covers. It was simply dream language. There was something intimate and childish about words said right on the edge of unconsciousness._ _

__

__When he knew Robin was deep within his dreams, Chrom left to a far corner of the castle, one where no one would be but had been earlier in the day. His sister’s room was close but he knew she was smart and quick to sleep for the morning came fast and ready._ _

__

__Leaning out on a balcony he favored for thinking, he looked out into the night sky and the moon and the far scenery and knew of a complicated love for many things he had no control over. This fate had brought him many things he was ever thankful for and yet he wished for less suffering, less sacrifice._ _

__

__A door closing behind him alerted him of another’s presence and surprised he looked back to a familiar face._ _

__

__Frederick joined him, the straight line of his nose and unpinched brow striking in the light of the moon. They shared the silence, the place where words could not provide the comfort of uncertainty. Rather, for Chrom, words were unnecessary and he felt a great appreciation for his closest ally._ _

__

__He knew of many things he wanted to change and the weight of a future that he wanted to protect. But he also knew of allies and a love so strong he felt he could alter fate with his very hands._ _

__

__“Beautiful, isn’t it?”_ _

__

__“Yes, my lord.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I was writing this chapter I had some conflict about the wooden training swords. There's conflict about whether during medieval times knights/warriors even used wooden swords at all and the value of sparring or practicing within wooden swords because they hold and weigh differently than let's say steel swords and can splinter and rot. I thought about changing this but overall felt an attachment to the idea of wooden swords which can be a large part to why I chose to keep the chapter the way it is. As for the bath scene, I decided to design the castle bath more along the lines of a Turkish bath which I know could be interpreted as inaccurate but I think that Fire Emblem Awakening is not a straight reflection of Europe and can allow some leniency on historical accuracy in that sense. Um, so these factors play into the idea of accuracy but I hope you'll forgive them! Thanks for reading!


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